


Done Saving the World

by cresswells



Category: Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, cresswell, kaider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:18:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1986162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresswells/pseuds/cresswells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You can help me pick out a tiara when we're done saving the world."</p><p>In which Cinder and Thorne go tiara shopping.  Set post-series, written pre-Winter.  Canon pairings apply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Done Saving the World

“You know, I thought this would be easier,” Cinder grumbled as they browsed the shelves of a third Lunar boutique in as many hours.  Shopping was not one of her strongest suits, and despite his vanity, Thorne wasn’t turning out to be much help.  She was beginning to wish he hadn’t taken her challenge to help her pick out a tiara quite so literally.  She’d wanted get this trip over with as quickly as possible, but he hadn’t liked  _any_  of the options they’d seen so far.

“These all look pretty much the same to me,” she groaned.  “Help me.  Which one do you think I should try on first?”

Thorne, who had been leaning against a display case and admiring his reflection in the surface of a particularly pricey dimond-encrusted tiara, rolled his eyes.  “It’s not that hard.  Just pick one you like.  Any one.  This one’s nice enough.”  He strode over to Cinder and unceremoniously plonked the tiara onto her head.  The gleaming silver band fell past her eyes and came to rest on the curve of her nose.

“Something tells me I’m going to need it in a smaller size,” Cinder deadpanned.

Thorne grinned.  “Well, you’re royalty now.  I’m sure that’s not going to be a problem.”

“I  _was_  royalty,” Cinder corrected him.  “For about five minutes before I abdicated the throne in favour of Winter.  If I’d known she was going to want me to play dress-up for her coronation I might have chosen someone else to support.”

“If you’d supported anyone else, I’m guessing the Lunars would have rioted against you anyway.”  It was true – Cinder’s campaign against Levana had earned her a huge following, but Winter had captured and held the public’s hearts in a way Cinder never could.  And since her abdication, Cinder had felt nothing but overwhelming relief. Relief that finally the revolution was over, and she no longer had to carry the burden of leading an entirely unfamiliar civilisation of people.  She could rest.

Well, after this star-forsaken tiara search was over, she could rest.

Cinder replaced the too-big tiara back on its stand and raked her gloved fingers through her hair in frustration as the boutique manager came hurrying over to them.  The woman was pale-faced and open-mouthed, and appeared to be shaking in the presence of (former) royalty.

“Good afternoon, Miss Linh,” she gushed enthusiastically, her eyes darting from Cinder to Thorne to the array of guards accompanying them.  “Such an honour to make your acquaintance –”

“Um, thanks,” Cinder said, fidgeting uncomfortably as a small orange dot appeared in her line of vision.  A lie.  This poor woman was nervous, not honoured.  She wondered how long it would take for the Lunars to feel anything but fear for their royal family.

Out of the corner of her eye Cinder could see Thorne smirking at her terrible manners, and resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs.  “I’m looking for a tiara to wear at Winter’s – uh, I mean, the princess’ coronation, and, um –”

“Oh, of course!” the shopkeeper exclaimed, her cheeks brightening considerably at the mention of the new Queen.  Her sudden enthusiasm, Cinder noticed with interest, appeared to be genuine.  “I’m sure we have just the thing in our private collection,” the woman continued, ushering them further into the boutique.  “If you’d like to follow me this way…”

Thirty minutes later, Cinder and Thorne exited the shop and were immediately escorted by their guards to a hover with blacked out windows.  A small crowd of reporters had gathered outside the boutique, eager to catch a glimpse of the fugitive-turned-princess whose rumoured relationship with Emperor Kaito of the Eastern Commonwealth had resulted in several gossip sites on the net database crashing after photos of the pair kissing behind a 214 Rampion Class 11.3 cargo ship had surfaced.

“What do you think?” Cinder asked Thorne again as the hover sped away.  She held up the simple silver diadem she’d finally settled on (much to the disappointment of the shopkeeper, who had insisted on showing her several much more suitable – and pricier – options).

Thorne shrugged, leaning back on the dark leather seat.  “I thought you dragged me along just to mess with me.  If you wanted real fashion advice, you should have asked Iko to escort you.”

She nudged him.  “I  _did_  bring you along to mess with you,” she teased.  “But I could also use some real advice.  I don’t know anything about fashion and I don’t want to screw anything up for Winter.”  She already felt terrible that she had no recollection of the girl who insisted that, not so long ago, they had been the best of friends.

“Well, if you really want my opinion, you should have chosen something flashier.  Or older.  Don’t princesses usually get tiaras handed down to them throughout the generations?”

“Yeah, Levana had pretty much all my family heirlooms destroyed,” Cinder said sourly.  “And I don’t want to wear anything too flashy.  It’s Winter’s big day, not mine.”

Thorne snorted.  “You’re not going to show her up, if that’s what you’re worried about.  You could go naked and she’d still be the one everyone stopped to stare at.  No offence.”

“None taken.”  Cinder grinned.  “Just don’t let Cress hear you talking about me naked.”

Ridiculously, Thorne’s cheeks reddened. “What are you talking about?”

“Stars,” Cinder groaned, exasperated.  “This has gone on long enough.  Stop dancing around her and just kiss the poor girl already.”

“That’s not – we’re not – I mean, how do you know – did she mention me?”

The orange light was practically blazing a hole through Cinder’s retina display.  It was amazing, really, how one mention of a certain tiny blonde hacker could reduce a man who had shamelessly flirted with his own ship to a stammering idiot.

“She didn’t have to.  What are you waiting for exactly?  I know she likes you.  And you like her.  You’ve both made that pretty obvious.”

Thorne slumped back in his chair, looking miserable.  “It’s not that easy,” he said, toying with a loose thread on his shirtsleeve.  “She… she used to like me.  She even thought she was in love with me.  But I’m pretty sure I screwed everything up before I even realised I liked her back.”

Cinder privately thought that although she had heard Thorne say a lot of idiotic things, this might be the most ridiculous of them all.

“Are you kidding?  Don’t you have eyes?” Cinder asked, without thinking.

Thorne raised his eyebrows in mock outrage.  “Bit of a sore subject for me, remember?” His sight had only returned after weeks of treatment, and even now, his vision wasn’t what it had used to be.  Cinder knew he was considering cyborg replacements.

“Sorry,” she said quickly.  “I only meant – she’s crazy about you, Thorne.  Honestly.”

Thorne shook his head, but he looked a little bit more hopeful.  Cinder made a mental note to speak to Iko about the situation later.  Her android friend had been bored lately.  This was just the sort of love drama she would thrive on fixing.

Changing the subject, Cinder waved the diadem in front of Thorne’s face again.  “If you really thought I just dragged you along to mess with you, why did you turn down so many of my choices? We wasted hours on this stupid trip.”

Thorne shrugged.  “You were obviously uncomfortable in all of them.”

Cinder blinked.  Perhaps unfairly, she’d assumed he was deliberately being difficult just to annoy her.

“You want my advice?” Thorne continued, “You don’t need a tiara.  Tell Winter you don’t want to wear any expensive jewellery or a pretty dress, and just show up in your gross, dirty cargo pants.  She seems like she  _adores_  you. I’m sure she won’t mind if you look terrible.”

Cinder laughed.  “I think there might have been a compliment in there somewhere.”  She considered his suggestion.  “I showed up to Kai’s ball in a filthy dress and grease-stained gloves.  I guess I can’t do much more to ruin my public image.”  She pursed her lips and then held her cyborg arm out to Thorne.

“You tell Cress how you feel and I’ll wear cargo pants to Winter’s coronation,” she announced.  “Deal?”

Thorne looked as though the thought of admitting his crush was as terrifying as the time Wolf had challenged him to an arm wrestle.  But Cinder knew he’d thank her for this later.  Probably just as she’d thank him for persuading her to ignore Lunar Court formalities and wear whatever she felt most comfortable in.

“My ugliest, dirtiest pair of cargo pants,” Cinder wheedled.

“With that frumpy grey hoodie you insist on wearing everywhere?” he asked.

Cinder ducked her head down, suddenly very interested in the fraying edges of her sleeves.  “Sure.  I’ll wear Kai’s hoodie too.”

Thorne grinned, clearly imagining Konn Torin’s look of horror at Cinder’s royal entrance, and shook her metal hand.  “Okay.  You’ve got yourself a deal.”


End file.
